I deny that my world is crumbling
by FirstSonVergil
Summary: Unfinished. D/V, DMC, Incest, Twincest. One cannot forget the past, one had to live through it.


It had been threatening to rain since the previous evening and a chill hung oppressively in the air. I enjoyed the rain, mostly. The lingering sharpness to the air was seeping into my bones causing a most unpleasant itch. It annoyed me more than anything, wishing it would pour and be done or flit away like a forgotten memory.

It didn't faze you of course, you hardly noticed it, if at all. Certainly there was not a single outward sign of the chill that affected me. You burned too brightly for such things to bother you. But you had your own demons so to speak and they were rooted far more in the psychological than the physical. I knew this, more I knew when it began to claw at the recesses of your mind.

I could see the past take root as a small tick in your eyes. Sometimes you overcame the memories and life continued and yet other times I awoke to a far more bitter chill than the weather. Without you beside me in bed my blood ran cold. I cursed beneath my breath how you were ever able to sneak away without waking me for we were always entwined.

It was the only time you ever had a bit of tact, a glimmer of subtlety, and it drove me insane. For all the reasons I cursed you currently it did not change the knowledge of why you had slunk away. The past had come back to haunt me.

Of course it clawed away at you, until it was blind obsession and the cruel words you spat at me were the truth. I was aware enough to know it was driven by pain, but narcissistic enough to believe it was more an affront to me than to you. It was not an attractive characteristic you'd told me before though it did not stop me from embracing it.

I knew exactly why I did though I would never put it into words, simply shoving down the truth because it was harder to bare. With a snarl upon my lips I flung the covers back and marched to the bathroom reliving myself before taking a hot shower. Sometime while I was absolving us for hot water it finally began to rain.

I filled my day like any other attempting to enjoy the silence I was surrounded by. The rain on the old roof provided a rhythmic pattern for which to read, exercise, and eat. Evening drew and the rain did not relent, nor did your now pronounced absence.

I felt my gut turn over before spreading slowly outwards against my limbs. I hated this feeling more than most. My hands clenched until they were white as I struggled against the guilt that threatened to replace my anger and annoyance. If your path of self-misery was in the past mine was rooted solely in the present.

I could not change the past, only watch as it consumed you, and do nothing in return.

I heard your approach before you opened the door, settled in my chair by the window. Your footsteps were uneven and heavy and I knew exactly where you'd been spending your time. You hadn't been able to outrun your thoughts on this day and instead turned to the very crutch I had tried so hard to wean you from. In these moments I was not enough. That burned me to my very core.

I watched you drunkenly stumble through the open falling to your face against the rough floorboards, and made no move to help you. I watched this scene play out like some surreal nightmare as you pushed yourself upon your elbows to glance around. I could guess the reaon you lay your head back down when you saw me alternating between laugher and gagged sobs.

"I hate you." You said with venom as your nails raked against the abused floor.

It was a lie I knew and yet I couldn't ignore the fact that the threads of the past remained within your mind as much as mine. My heart went out to you as I watched water pool beneath your soaking wet clothing as more was brought in by the wind through open doors. Maybe you did hate me, or least part of me, but you loved me too. That was enough.

I rose slowly approaching you more like a wounded animal than my brother for alcohol made your emotions run hotter. They violently swung in directions I couldn't follow and simply had to ride the storm. Better to approach with a modicum of mindfulness than to invite your full fury. So I moved quietly to close the door from the continuing onslaught of water and knelt to remove your boots.

Filthy and covered in grime I could practically trace every alley and bar you'd been in, and chose not to think about it as I placed them on a mat to dry. As you made no protest I slide my hands along your leather clad legs dipping around your waist to unlatch your belt. I waited a moment when you grunted half expecting to be told off and eager to protest with my knee upon your back. But silence hung heavy as I unzipped your pants and pulled them away from your skin.

I stole a moment of amusement as my eyes wandered over your bare skin appreciatively, your knack for taking every available moment for carnal pleasure clearly being rubbed off on me. I rose and hung them over the radiator to drip dry. Now I was to divest you of your beloved coat and that presented a challenge. You were being so uncooperative; I believed simply to watch me struggle.

As I wrestled you from your coat I refused to believe the shifting of your gaze and the shudder in your muscles was more than the cold. For if it was what I truly knew it was, I would've slunk to the floor as well and there we would have sat. I opted for denial instead for it served me well. Your coat weighed easily twice as much as when it was dry and I clicked my tongue in annoyance as it dripped along the floor. I left it with your pants to dry.

"Are you going to hate me there or would you prefer somewhere more comfortable to express your detestation?"

I caught movement from the corner of my eye as I turned watching you roll from your stomach to your back and throw an arm across your face. The floorboards where you had initially fallen were dark in color having taken the brunt of your ill-advised walk in the rain. But clearly you chose to hate me from the floor. So be it.

I headed upstairs to get a towel more to clean the mess than to aid your comfort but found myself lighter. I was relieved you were home and I thought about mentioning it to you. To extend an olive branch of affection and see where it might lead. On my way back you emptied the contents of your stomach and my interest in comforting you was lost.


End file.
